The Judgment of Saints
by LA Sway
Summary: UPDATED! Lara Croft sets off to uncover the mystery of a friends death, but she has no idea what lies ahead.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: This story is still a bit of a work in progress, but I hope you enjoy. I definitely appreciate any reviews, good or bad! 

The Judgment of Saints

L.A. Sway

**__**

Prologue

The howl of his engine rang through the narrow streets of Paris. The black lotus sped down the path at a concerning speed. The night was pitch black before him, only the narrow beams of street lights disturbed the shadowy road ahead. Batrice Bonterre glanced nervously in his rear view mirror, his dark green eyes suspiciously eyeing the cars behind him. He switched gears and sped ahead, his car kicking up a trail of forgotten leaves behind it. He hadn't driven long when he pulled into a deserted parking lot, not another car in sight. A large darkened warehouse sat abandoned in the empty lot. Or so it seemed. He once again checked his rear view mirror, before exiting the car. You could only be so careful, he reminded himself. The frigid air of the early February night caught him off guard, sending a chill up his spine. His eyes swept over the uninviting appearance of the run down warehouse, searching for some kind of movement that could be seen from the outside. He saw just what he had suspected. Absolutely nothing. After lingering a moment beside his car, he stepped towards a large steel door, seeming to be the only entrance. He smoothed the wrinkles on his black suit, and tried to sweep back his dark brown hair before raising his fist to knock.

Before his fist had even made contact with the door, it swung open, revealing a rather large man. The bulky man was dressed in an expensive suit, and cold glare as he held the door open. A brief glimpse of metal from beneath the man's jacket made Batrice shudder. Things never went well when guns were involved, not even if he was the one packing. He took a deep breath at the sight of the pistol, and for a moment considered calling the whole thing off. He'd find me anyhow, he contemplated with desperation. "Mr. Bello has been expecting you," the man said, opening the door only enough so that Batrice could inch through. He could hear the pounding of the music as soon as he entered the dark corridor.

"This way," Batrice heard the other man say, signaling to a flight of stairs. The stairs connected with a catwalk overlooking the entire warehouse. As Batrice stepped onto the catwalk, he stopped to stare down at the ocean of people below him. The blare of the music was so loud it was impossible for one to hear his own thoughts. A wave of colorful lights passed over the area, the only form of light in the dark. The D.J was stationed on an upraised platform, the crowd spilling around him. Batrice removed a handkerchief from his pocket, putting it to his mouth. The smell of smoke was heavy in the confined area. Mr. Bello owned the most exclusive clubs in Paris, where only the most wealthy and successful people made it in. 

Batrice couldn't wait to leave.

"Ah, Mr. Bonterre, so glad you could attend," the sound of Amir Bello's thick French accent brought Batrice to attention. Amir actually looked more Italian then French, with his deep brown eyes and tan complexion. He wore a posh Italian suit, and his black hair swept back. The very sight of him sent fear into the pit of Batrice's stomach. "Shall we go into my office?" Batrice knew it was more of a command then a question, and quickly agreed. He stepped into a well furbished office, with only the finest black leather couches, and art work hanging on the dark red walls. Two double doors opened onto a balcony, with a view of downtown Paris, and the distant lines of the river. The music of the club had become a faint hum inside the enclosed room, now the only sound he could hear was the far off honking of traffic through the opened balcony doors. "Its alright Cal," Amir said, gesturing towards the large man who had led Batrice in, "we wont be long." Cal nodded, shooting another cold glare at Batrice, before leaving the two men alone. "I believe you know why you're here," Amir said, pulling a cigar from his desk. Batrice cast his eyes downward, but remained silent. When no response came, he continued.

"I don't take well to disobedience Batrice. I said that from the beginning, _no?" _

Batrice eyed Amir nervouslybefore responding_. "_We hadn't expected things to go so wrong, if I only had more time-" 

"I didn't ask for excuses," he responded sharply, "Are you insinuating that it was my fault that you had not acquired the piece in time?" 

Batrice was really beginning to sweat, knowing Amir's reputation, things were not going well.

"N-n-no, _pardon_, only that-" 

"Batrice, calm down," Amir cut in, his voice suddenly calm and reassuring, "there's no need to be so nervous. After all, I'm quite a forgiving person." Batrice let his nerves calm, before continuing. "My contact in Cuba says that I just need until next week." Amir said nothing, but instead walked out onto the balcony. Batrice followed, stepping out beside him. The city lay in a panoramic view, even in the very distance you could see the sketch of the Eiffel tower. "Do you see this Batrice?" Amir said, opening his arms wide, as if to embrace the city. "All of this will be mine in just a short time. Can you imagine," he said turning towards him, "Paris will be a new. All I need is for you to fulfill your part of the deal. "Oui, Amir, I will get you the piece. You will turn this city around." He said timidly, but Amir shifted his view once again to city skyline.

"Now Batrice, I'm doing my best to not be angry with you, but I believe we had a deal. You receive the money, and I acquire the piece in return. It looks like one of us hasn't fulfilled our part of the deal." Batrice starred at Amir in fear, "Just a little more time. I can assure you." he answered nervously. Amir turned towards him, "Alright Mr. Bonterre, you may have more time." Batrice's eyes widened in surprise, he hadn't expected that. "Oh, _merci, merci-"_ he began to say, but his look of hope suddenly disappeared, as his face was overtaken by that of pain. Amir withdrew the blade from Batrice's side, now covered in blood. Batrice looked at him in horror, "Amir, no, no-" His voice rising in panic, he tried to press his hand to the wound, but only succeeded in covering his hands in more blood. Before another word left his mouth, Amir grabbed him by the jacket and flung him over the railing of the balcony. Batrice let out a hoarse scream, as he plummeted to his death. 

Amir glanced over the edge nonchalantly, "Now, Batrice, you have an eternity." 

**__**


	2. Of Friends and Foes

**__**

Chapter 1

Of foes and Friends

L.A. Sway

The shrill ring of the telephone brought Lara out of a deep sleep. She lazily grasped for the phone, her eyes still shut. "..what?" she growled, as she finally managed to bring the receiver to her ear. 

"Lara? Lara, its Lawrence Stanford, I'm sorry to call you at such an hour-" 

"Lawrence?" her now polite British accent cut in, "No, no It's perfectly alright. Is everything okay?" 

"Oh, everything is quite alright my dear, I just seemed to have had a lapse of memory at the hour over there." 

She was now sitting straight up in bed, pulling her hair back into a tight bun. Lawrence Stanford had been a long time friend and associate of Lara's, and an even greater friend of her fathers. After her father's death he became much a father figure to her, and a wonderful mentor. He now spent most of his time traveling, and Lara rarely had the opportunity to see him. 

"No matter the hour, its wonderful to hear from you Lawrence, how have you been?" Lara was already out of bed and venturing towards her closet, the cordless phone held to her ear. "Oh, I'm doing just fine for an old man," he said, laughing to himself on the other line, "But this really isn't a social call Lara. I've discovered something amazing." 

Lara stopped in front of her closet, "What is it?" His voice lowered before he continued, "Do you recall only a few years ago, when Alfred Stevens, an American fellow I believe, discovered what he claimed to be half of the key of saints." 

She paused for a long moment, searching her memory. The key of saints was said to open to chest of St. Michael, containing his sword. Archeologists had very little information on it, so when Alfred Stevens had made public that he had discovered the piece, no one had really taken him seriously. 

"Yes I remember." He cleared his throat, and again continued with his voice lowered. "We've been digging in a small village just outside of Havana, just yesterday one of my diggers found something that gave the locals quite a fright." He laughed shortly to himself at this, the laugh of an old man, sounding much more like a cough these days. "It's the other half, Lara. I'm sure of it. I can't seem to decipher the markings on it, but I know I'm right." Lara thought for a moment, feeling a bit of excitement within her. "When do you return to London?" "Within the week, I have to see you at once."

* * *

Lawrence Stanford sat back in his seat with a sigh of satisfaction. He let his fingers run over the dulled steel of the key, feeling the thousands of years that had surpassed the relic. He closed his eyes, resting a moment. The sounds of the jungle had become lessened in the late hour, the calls of birds and creatures fading into the distance, and the jumbled Spanish of his diggers had now become hushed as they slept. He had a small cot inside his tent, but he knew he would not be using it tonight, there was still much work to be done. He was still attempting to decipher the markings that covered the key, but had made little success. 

The story of St. Michael had fascinated him for much of the past 2 years of his life. After the other half had been discovered by Alfred Stevens, the American archeologist, he had become engrossed in the sword's history. The other half of the key had been towed away shortly after its discovery, to London, and now after the death of the archeologist who had discovered it, it was going up for bids at Sotheby's. It was a shame what men do for a worthless penny.

That fellow Alfred would be rolling over in his grave to know that his only descendent was giving up the one item of worth that he'd left him. Though in Lawrence's youth he would have most likely made the same decisions. But it had been a long while since he had been a young man, his hair had become a dulled gray, and his strength had long ago been weakened. He had grown to be a man of great wealth and success and it was only now, in the late years of his life, that he realized that those things mattered so very little to him. He pondered what his life would have been if he had married and had children. The thought caused a smile to touch his lips, when had he come to an age where he spent his time reflecting on life? He now found himself thirsty for a good bottle of brandy; to sit in his den in front of the fire in his home in Yorkshire. But he would be returning home soon enough.

A shriek from outside his tent suddenly sounded, and he found himself standing immediately. "Mario?" He called, to his associate, "Mario? Is everything alright?" He waited with uncertainty for a moment, hearing no answer. He finally took a step towards the front of the tent, when he was caused to retract those steps. A large well built man had entered the tent, dressed as if he were attending a business meeting, rather then a dig in the middle of the Cuban jungle. "What are you doing? You cant be in here. Mario!" The large man remained silent, but instead revealed his intentions by removing a small pistol from the cover of his jacket. 

Lawrence locked his eyes on the pistol, and in panic he searched his mind for some sort of solution. He knew what they had come for. He backed up slowly, grasping for the key. He had only brushed his fingers upon it when the sound of gun shots rang out into the still night. Lawrence hadn't felt it at first, but instead stared in confusion at the blood on his finger tips from touching his chest. He stumbled forward, his hands outstretched towards the bitter face of the stranger, the pain in his chest like he had never known before. He was falling; his senses dulled now, and his breaths shorter. The last thing he felt was the dirt of jungle floor beneath his burning face, and then the sounds and sights of this world faded, and darkness replaced all his pain. 

***

The late afternoon sun had become barely visible over the garden walls, as Lara, once again, retreated to the beginning of the assault course. She glanced at her stop watch in frustration, and wiped away the sweat that had begun to bead at the top of her head. She had just begun to climb upon the first crate, when Winston shuffled outside. "Lady Croft? There's something inside you'll want to see." She didn't even look up from the crate, "Really Winston, I haven't the time right now." "Lady Croft,-" Winston broke off and looked at her in distress. She eyed him warily, "Alright." She followed him into the kitchen to see the small white television turned on. Winston laid his fingers shakily on the volume button. The elderly news anchor began to speak, "Lawrence Stanford , a British archeologist, was found dead with 10 other co workers on a dig site just outside of Havana. Officials have verified that their deaths occurred several days ago, and were victims of gun shot wounds. They have no suspects as of yet." 


	3. Auction House

****

The Manor looked out upon a vista of trees, only to be smothered by that of the early morning fog. Lara stared out the window; hands clasped behind her back, her thoughts distant. It had been a long while since she had watched the fog rise in the morning; it always seemed to help clear her thoughts. She hoped the sun would break through the clouds today so that she could train on the assault course. The rain hadn't seemed to let up in the past few weeks. Her eyes swept over the distant valleys, and her thoughts began to drift.

The loss of Lawrence's life had remained as much a mystery to her now as the day that she heard of his passing. She had done her best to remain strong, despite his death. But every link to her father had seemed to fade in the past few years. Most of his close friends had passed away, and all relatives of his had either died or wanted nothing to do with her. For the first time in a long while, Lara admitted she felt very much alone. Years of dealing with death so very often had hardened her in a way, she had learned to accept it and move on. And for that she felt somewhat ashamed. She wondered about the last time she cried; realizing that it was long ago, when she seemed so much weaker then she was now. Even her father's death had not caused her to shed one tear. She recalled on the day of his funeral, her aunt telling her she was dead inside, and then slapped her hard across the face. Lara wondered at that phrase, dead Inside. _Perhaps I am,_ she thought. But she pushed the thought away, thinking it better to ignore it. 

She had gone through news article after news article, only to find not a single mention of Lawrence's discovery. Not one word was printed about the half of the key that he was so sure was the real thing. And still nearing a week after his death, there were still no leads as to who might have murdered him. "Lara?" She turned to see Winston peeking through the doorway. "Breakfast is prepared, when you're ready." He offered a weak smile, the only form of comfort he could give. "Thank you Winston." She responded with an equally fake smile before returning to gaze out the window. She decided it was time to do a little research. 

****

Sotheby's was crowded today, and Lara preferred it that way. Made it all the easier for her to slip in and out without being noticed. She made her way through the crowds, settling into a seat near the back of the auction house. A young man offered her a catalogue, but she waved him away. Instead she surveyed the inhabitants of the room, must of which were quite wealthy it appeared. Collectors, she supposed, archeologists, bankers, lawyers and so on. Lara almost felt out of place in leather jacket and shades. Almost. 

The auctioneer cleared his throat and began to speak. "And now Ladies and Gentleman, The Key of Saints." He said, referring to the small relic that was laid inside a glass case. 

"Said to be half of the key to that of the chest of St. Michael, containing his sword, this is a priceless find. The bidding will began at 50,000 pounds." 

An elderly man several rows before her, raised his card. The auctioneer gave a ingratiating smile, "50 thousand from the gentleman in the cap. Do I hear 55? Lara remained silent, sensing the disinterest in majority of the room. Another man a few seats down from her, raised his card. "55 thousand from the gentleman in Armani. Do I hear 60?" Lara took the opportunity , and raised her card. "60 thousand, ladies bid."

The bidding continued on, as Lara wondered if this piece was actually worth as much as she was willing to pay. But she had to know, for Lawrence's sake. "Do I hear 500 thousand?" Lara immediately raised her card, hoping her competitors had come to their limit. She noticed that the elderly man in the cap was shaking his head, but the man a few seats down had remained calm and collected. "Do I hear 600 thousand?" Lara was beginning to sweat, silently praying that the bidding would not raise much higher. After all, she wasn't even sure that this piece was worth this amount of money, so why was her competitor throwing away his money? "Do I hear 700,000 thousand pounds?" Lara raised her card, casting a side glance at her opponent. "Do I hear 800?" The man in Armani raised his card once again, and Lara glared at him in frustration. He returned her glare with a cocky grin. "Do I hear 950, thousand pounds?" Lara gritted her teeth at the auctioneer's large elevation in price. But instead, raised her card once again. "Do I hear one million pounds?" The room remained silent, and Lara once again looked at her competitor out of the corner of her eye. He remained still. "950,000 pounds for a unique find. Going once. Going twice. Sold!" Lara let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and was thankful that the bid had not gone any higher. "Ma'm, would you care to make arrangements for the delivery?" She took one last glance at her opponent, only to find he was no longer in the room, before turning back towards the auctioneer, "No, I'll take it now, thank you." 

***

The grand lobby was packed with buyers and sellers, mingling, talking money, fashion, summer homes, all the meaningless chitchat that Lara found so boring. Still, she found the room beautiful, with its high ceilings, marble floors, bouquets of flowers scattered about-

"Lara Croft?" Lara turned to see the gentleman from the auction, the one whom had been her opponent, standing behind her. He was not much taller then her, perhaps about 6 foot. He had messy light brown hair, and deep green eyes. He stuck out his hand awkwardly, "I'm Daniel Lane." Lara glanced at it, but made no attempt to shake it in return. "Right," he said retracting it, "Can I have a word with you?" 

"Really Mr. Lane, I haven't the time right now." 

She glanced down at her black bag containing the piece, ready to return home and begin translating the markings. She turned her back on him. "I knew Lawrence Stanford. I knew what he found." He called from behind her. Lara stopped dead in her tracks, but did not turn to face him. Instead he came to her side. "He was a close friend of my grandfather's." He paused for a moment, waiting for an answer from her, she supposed. "I believe we both know something more about that piece then we're pretending." 

Lara eyed him warily for a moment, before responding, 

"I've really no idea what you're talking about Mr. Lane." 

She made an attempt to push past him, but instead he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a side hallway, 

"They'll come after you, just like they did for him! You don't know what you've gotten yourself into." He said urgently now, his breath hot on her skin. 

With great effort, she restrained herself from decking him right there, but instead replied through gritted teeth, "Don't presume to tell me what I do or do not know. And if you would like to return home with your arm still intact you'll remove your hand from me immediately." She glared at him, and he removed his hand, but failed to remove the look of irritation from his face. "Miss Croft, that piece," he said gesturing towards her bag, "There are things I know about it. I can help you." He pressed a small white card into her palm, and before he could continue on, Lara interrupted. "Well then perhaps next time Mr. Lane, you should make sure you're equipped adequately for such high bidding." With that she pushed past him and made her way through the crowded lobby. 

***

The rain padded lightly against Lara's windshield, her windshield wipers going back and forth slowly. The sky had remained the same sullen gray from the morning, and the road ahead was wet. Lara drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, impatient with the London traffic. She glanced down at the white card Daniel Lane had given her. He had scribbled his name and number on it, _They'll get you. Just like they did him!_

Lara wondered at they comment. Who could he possibly be talking about? And how was he sure that they 'both knew something more then they were pretending'. Lara let out a sigh and dropped the card in the seat beside her.

When she had finally made it out of the city, Lara pressed the accelerator a little harder. Her Aston martin v12 vanquish could easily manage 100 miles per hour in 5 seconds, and when she was on the empty road back to her manor she would always test out the speed. She hadn't been driving long when she noticed that the usually deserted road had another companion. A silver Porsche turbo had been on her tail for quite some time, and Lara was soon becoming frustrated with the other driver's need to be on her hind end. She switched gears and sped ahead. The other driver seemed to be playing some sort of copy cat game, for he sped up right behind her. Lara glared in her rear view mirror, unable to make out the face of her follower. She made a left onto a small dirt road, a bit of a short cut she decided. The opposite driver did the same. 

"So you wanna play then?" Lara said aloud with a grin. She clamped her foot down on the accelerator, her car immediately shooting forward, leaving the Porsche behind in her muddy tracks. Lara laughed to herself, but her laughter soon faded as 2 black BMW's sped out behind her. And they definitely were not playing a game. 


	4. Business Arrangements

****

Business Arrangements 

L.A Sway 

Lara made a sharp turn to the right, making a desperate attempt to avoid collision with the Sudan that had just come out on her side. She switched gears and sped ahead, watching the three cars in her rear view mirror.

Her rear window shattered, and Lara immediately ducked her head, avoiding the gun fire. "Oh now I'm mad!" She said furiously, making a sudden hard turn to the left. She hit the brakes, and aimed her pistol at the BMW heading towards her. She fired 4 shots before the car made a sudden jerk to the left, colliding with a tree. Lara had no time to celebrate her victory, for she was already making another swift turn and pressing the gas petal to the floor. With the rain pouring down hard, it was impossible to see, but she knew that up ahead there was an overlook above the highway. 

Thinking quickly, Lara unfastened her seatbelt and grabbed the black bag containing the piece. She flipped the cruise control button, glanced in her rear view mirror one last time, and slightly opened the car door. Lara ignored the speed of the car and without a second thought she jumped from the car, immediately forming her body into a roll position. 

She hit the ground hard, and allowed a yelp to escape her mouth. She took cover in an over grown bush, and looked up just in time to see her silver sports car break through the guard rail and fly off the edge of the overhang. It seemed suspended in mid air for a moment, before plummeting to the ground. She let out a sigh of relief that she was no longer in the car. The other driver was not so lucky. By the time he noticed the road had come to an end, his black BMW had skidded and flew off the cliff at angle, plunging towards the highway below. She remained crouched in the overgrown bushes for what seemed an eternity, waiting for the driver of the Porsche to arrive. After a long while, soaked to the bone, Lara cautiously made her way onto the roadway. The Porsche was no where to be seen, and neither was any other kind of car. She let out a sigh, and placed her hand on her cheek, feeling a thin cut across her cheek bone. It stung a little, but she had had much, much worse. Slinging her black bag over her shoulder in frustration, she began the trek back home. 

***

"Come now Lara, have a change of clothes and some soup. You look a fright!" Winston repeated, following Lara back and forth as she paced the library. 

Lara frustrated, with his good, but rather annoying intentions, gave in. 

"Alright, Alright Winston, you go make the soup and I'll change my clothes." 

Obviously Satisfied with himself, Winston retreated to the clanging of dishes in the kitchen. 

Lara watched him go, before wandering into her bedroom and stripping off her clothes. She stared in the mirror, combing her hair, Daniel Lane's words replaying in her mind. _They'll get you, just like they did him! _

After having changed into jeans, a gray turtle neck sweater, and nearly being force fed by Winston, Lara retreated to the quiet of her den. The cut on the side of her cheek, had stopped bleeding a long while ago, and now Lara sat, flipping the little white card Daniel had given her, over and over again in her fingers. The piece had been hidden well in case they decided to come after her again. After all, it had happened once or twice in the past. 

The sky eventually became black, and the full moon produced a milky white light in her den. She was anxious to begin deciphering the markings on the piece, but for the moment decided to wait. 

After having made a few phone calls, she found that Daniel had a flat in London. He was an American, who had moved from New York less then a year ago, though still had an apartment in New York city. 

Finally, ignoring that it was nearly 2 am, she grabbed her keys and climbed into her land rover. The rain hadn't let up all day, and the light pattering of raindrops against her windows nearly lulled her to sleep. She found herself glancing in her rear view mirror continuously, keeping a watchful eye on any vehicles around her. 

Eventually she made it into the familiar surroundings of the city, the lights of pubs and office buildings still lit in the late hour. She checked the address she had scribbled on a piece of paper, as she pulled in front of a string of identical white town homes. She climbed out of her car, thankful that the rain had finally reduced to a small drizzle. 

The cold caught off guard, and she pulled her leather jacket tighter around her. The wind whistled a little, and the barren trees moved back and forth slowly, scrapping their branches along the housing. Lara found it ironic that a city so incredibly busy during the day, seemed so completely deserted, and eerie at night. 

She checked to make sure that her pistol was tucked into the back of her pants, before proceeding towards the door. She glanced around nonchalantly, before knocking. When no response came, she repeated her knock, a little harder this time. 

Finally, from inside she could hear someone stumbling around, then obviously knocking into something, followed by an 'ouch' and a something along the lines of, _'Damn Coffee Table, I swear…'_.

The door jerked opened, and Daniel stood there with no shirt on, rubbing his eyes. 

"Mr. Lane?" She asked, pretending not to notice what a well built man he was. 

"Croft..? What the-come in." He said, opening the door wider for her. She stepped in, eyeing her surroundings. 

Clothes were strewn over the couches, and several empty Chinese food containers and beer cans lay scattered on the coffee table. 

"Sorry it's such a mess," he said making an effort to clean up the clothes, "You want some coffee?" 

Lara nodded a 'yes', making her way around the mess. 

He pulled a shirt off a pile of laundry on the chair and put it on, before making his way into the kitchen, and putting on a pot off coffee. 

The kitchen opened into the living room, and a stair case was parallel to the door, leading into a room upstairs she assumed. 

She noticed that he had several black and white photographs scattered across the coffee table as well, and several framed pictures of a little girl. Lara wandered towards the mantel over the fire place, and picked up a framed picture of a little girl. She had long blonde ringlets, a big smile with missing teeth, and familiar green eyes. Daniel walked over to Lara, picked the picture out of her hand, and placed it back on the mantel. "Coffee's ready." 

Lara followed him into the kitchen and picked up a cup, and sat down at the kitchen table. 

"What exactly is your profession, Mr. Lane?"

He looked up from pouring his cup, "Oh, I'm a photo journalist. Do a lot of free lance stuff here and there." 

"I see." She replied, beginning to regret her decision to come here. What could he possibly know about an ancient relic? 

"What are you doing here?" He said suddenly, leaning against the counter. "Change your mind?" He grinned a little, that same cocky grin that he had given her during the auction. Was it just her, or were all American males this cocky? 

Lara's face remained neutral, "You said you knew something. I came to see what that was." 

"At 4 o clock in the morning?"

She shrugged, "Considering I have something you want Mr. Lane, I think I can do anything I very well please." 

He laughed a little, "And what makes you think that I wouldn't be able to get that piece back from you on my own?"

"Well perhaps if you fancy broken bones, you can try." She said, raising her eyebrow, as if to challenge him. 

He sighed a little, "Alright, you win Croft," he said settling into the chair across from her. 

"My grandfather, Ian Dawson," he began, "was an archeologist like yourself. He had never made any great finds like you Croft, but he worked in a museum in New York. Wrote a few books. Was a really intelligent man.

My dad died when I was real young, so my grandfather was pretty much the only father I ever knew. Anyways, not too long ago, he traveled to Barcelona, it was for some kind of conference I guess. When he came home, that's when I first heard about the key. And the chest of St. Michael, his sword, the whole bit. 

He became obsessed with finding it. He said that whoever discovered the chest, and wielded the sword would have absolute power over all their enemies. Naturally, I didn't take him seriously, even after he claimed that he knew the exact location of both halves of the piece. The first half that was discovered, the one by Alfred Stevens. It was found in Dresden, Germany. He had said that that's where it would be. And when it was discovered, I couldn't believe it. He was right. 

That's when he began speaking to Lawrence Stanford often. He said that had known each other for years, I only got to meet him once, at a benefit here in London. He seemed like a good man." 

He paused a moment, eyeing Lara. 

She looked down, trying to escape his gaze. 

"Yes, he was a great man." She replied, offering a weak smile. 

Daniel eyed her a moment longer, before continuing. "He told Lawrence that the second half of the piece was in Havana, and over a year ago, they began planning to travel there together and excavate it. Shortly afterwards, my Grandfather was murdered. His house had been turned inside out, the night he died. Like whoever had killed him, came looking for something. The cops assumed that it was just an everyday robbery. Not like they had a real motive, cept' to get some easy cash." With that, Daniel sighed and returned to the sink, rinsing out his coffee cup. 

"But how did he know of the locations of both halves. How do I know that you're telling me the truth?" She cut in suddenly, unsure of his story. 

"Did you bring the piece with you?"

Lara didn't answer, remaining expressionless, a little surprised by his question.

"Right, didn't expect you to." He said and then ventured out of the room, and up the stairs. 

Lara sat back in her seat with a sigh, the sun was just beginning to peer through the curtains in the living room, and she was beginning to feel quite tired. 

Daniel returned from the upstairs, carrying a small leather bond book in his hand. He sat down in front of her. 

"This is my proof." He said, pushing it into her hand. 

Lara flipped it open, surprised to find that it was a diary. It was all in Spanish, but she could easily understand it. 

"Here look at this," he said flipping past the pages of diary entries, and onto a small map drawn across the two page spread. 

Lara saw notes scribbled across the top and bottom, but what caught her by surprise was the 'x' mark beside the location of Dresden Germany, and Havana, Cuban. 

"W-Where did you say you got this?" She said, feeling the goose bumps on her arms. 

"My grandfather gave it to me right before he died. He came back from Barcelona with it, though I have no idea where he got it." 

Lara looked up at him, trying to mask her enthusiasm, "I'll have to take this to a friend of mine at the museum of London, she can date it for us. Verify that it is an original, and not something you grandfather just made up." She went to stand, but Daniel pulled the diary from her fingers. "Sorry Croft, but I'll be keeping this."

"What? You can't do that! I need to get it dated."

"Considering that I have something that you want Miss Croft, I think I can do anything I very well please." He grinned cockily once again at her. 

Lara only returned it with a glare, "Fine. What do you want?" 

"Well, considering I have something you want, and you have something I want. I think we should work together. Otherwise neither of us are going to get much done."

"You cant be serious! You're a photo journalist, not a archeologist. This is way over your head."

He didn't respond, but instead leaned against the counter, his face unreadable. 

Lara sighed, "I need you to tell me something. You said, that 'they' would come after me. Just like they did him. I need to know who 'they' are." 

Daniel straightened a little, "Is that what that cut is from?" He said, gesturing towards her cheek. Lara laid her fingers along it, and slowly nodded. "Right after the auction, they gave me a little trouble, while I was driving. But I think they got what was coming to them." 

He nodded , "Truthfully, I don't know who they are. But I know that my grandfather's death was not by just some common criminal, and that whoever killed Lawrence, and took the piece are going to be after you now too. The thing is, after they killed my grandfather, they were searching this." He said, holding up the diary. 

"They don't know I have it, for now. But I don't know how long that will last. Whoever it is, they're after the chest. And no one is gonna get in their way." 

Lara sighed, and sat for a long moment thinking, "Alright, Mr. Lane. We have a deal. But we do things my way. Understand?" He looked at her, and a smile played across his lips, "Got it." He stuck out his hand, and she shook it, before heading towards the door. She opened it, and stepped out into the early morning sunlight, the whole city beginning to wake with its rising. She walked down the steps, "I'll contact you later Mr. Lane." 

"Oh, one more thing Croft."

Lara looked up at him from her car, with a raised brow.

"Call me Daniel." 

Lara nodded, "I'll keep that in mind." And with that she climbed into her car, speeding off into the chaotic morning traffic of London.


	5. Cipher

Thanks for the reviews!! Hope you Enjoy…let me know what you think! 

Cipher

L.A. Sway

The small café buzzed with conversation. Woman giggling over the gossip they had just shared, business men closing deals over cell phones, young couples whispering quietly to each other. Lara leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee, waiting. For the third time in the past five minutes, she glanced impatiently at her watch. Outside the window, hurried pedestrians pushed past each other, never bothering to apologize for every time they knocked into someone. Everyone who lived in the city always seemed to be rushed, except Daniel, who was taking his merry ole time at the moment. Finally, he appeared at the door of the café, wearing jeans, a black button up shirt and a black jacket. He settled into the seat parallel to her, and smiled. Lara did not return it. 

"You're late."

He shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. 

"Traffic's horrible this time of day." 

"You live a block away." 

He laughed, "Calm down Croft, I'm 5 minutes late-"

"Would you stop calling me that!" 

"Well, what do you want me to call you?" 

Lara sighed. Barely a minute into their conversation and he was already pressing her buttons. "Lara will be fine." 

He shook his head, with a bit of a smile on his face "Are you always this impossible?" 

"Are you always this arrogant?"

When he didn't reply, but instead just stared at her with a neutral expression on his face, she continued. "Did you bring it with you?" 

"Yup." He said patting his jacket pocket. 

"May I see?"

He removed it from his coat, looking around casually to make sure no one was watching, and handed it to her. Lara immediately flipped to the back of the book, finding exactly what she was looking for. The entire Spanish alphabet was arranged in a table, with small symbols adjacent to each letter. 

"What is it?" Daniel asked.

She looked up at him, and lowered her voice. "On the piece, there are all these symbols, some I recognized, some I had never seen before. In the back of this book, the Spanish alphabet is listed. It has a symbol next to each letter, enabling whoever has the book and the piece, to decipher the markings."

"So like a code?" 

"Exactly." 

"Well, how long will it take you to decipher all the markings?"  
"Shouldn't' take long. But we only have half the puzzle, without the other piece that Lawrence discovered, its incomplete." Lara leaned down, picking up her bag and placing the diary in it. She stood from the table, only to be halted by what she expected.

"Do you think I'm just going to let you leave with that?" Daniel said, standing up as well. Lara glared at him, "I thought we had an understanding, I need the diary if I'm going to decode the piece."

"And when you're done, you're going to skip town, with both?"

Lara found herself rolling her eyes, irritated with this man's constant accusations. Not that his comment was a half bad idea. 

She sighed, "Tomorrow I'm going to the British museum to see a friend of mine. A historian. She can answer some of the questions I have about the piece. Since you obviously don't trust me with the diary, you might as well come." Lara paused a moment, thinking about what she had just said. Of course he didn't trust her. Why should he? She certainly didn't trust him in the least. 

Daniel smiled a little, like a child who was getting his way and nodded. "See you tomorrow then." Lara nodded, placed her designer shades over her eyes and walked out the café door. 

***

The soft clicks of the woman's shoes echoed throughout the empty halls of the museum. It didn't open for another hour, and Lara was glad not have to compete with the flow of tourists. Lara and Daniel followed close behind the woman, trying to keep up with her quick pace. Finally they entered into the woman's office, and she gestured for them to sit in the two seats adjacent to her desk. 

Her office was plainly decorated ,the white walls barren, except for a small award certificate hung up behind her desk. 

She was a small woman, her once beautiful features now lined with wrinkles and her graying hair pulled into a tight bun. She folded her hands in front of her, letting her gaze sweep over the pair. She had introduced herself as Catherine Maguire, curator of the museum. 

Lara had come to visit her old friend, Gale Jennings only to find that she had retired nearly two years ago. She felt somewhat guilty for seeming to only connect with old friends when she needed their help, and made a mental note to catch up with Gale in the near future. 

"Now let's see Miss Croft," Maguire said, pulling the glasses that had hung in front of her to the tip of her nose, 

"There is limited information of the chest of Saints. It appeared in the late 15th century, and was immediately ordered to be shipped off. Eduardo de los Santos was the captain of _El orgullo del mar, _the ship that was sent off from Spain by the Queen herself. The ship was said to have been carrying the Chest of Saints, containing the sword of St. Michael. There are various rumors about the sword. Said to have fought Satan himself. Overall, the sword when wielded, has absolute power over all their enemies." She sat back in her seat, obviously in a hurry to move on with her day. But she had accepted the meeting, not wanting to turn away _the_ Lara Croft. 

Lara leaned forward, "So what of the ship?" 

Maguire pursed her lips, "It shipwrecked just off the coast of Spain. Archeologists have never found any evidence of the ship, or the chest for that matter. The only evidence we've ever acquired on the subject, was the half of the key of saints that Alfred Stevens discovered in Germany. I have no idea how it ended up that far from Spain. As for the other half of the key, archeologists have had no luck." 

Daniel and Lara exchanged glances, but said nothing. Maguire continued, "Because of the lack of evidence, most historians are skeptical of it's existence." 

__

Yeah, and Archeologists never found evidence of Atlantis either, Lara thought smugly. 

"And when the two pieces are combined, they unlock the chest?" Daniel asked, eyeing her. "Precisely. When combined it's said that the two pieces will create a map leading to the chest and unlock it." 

She leaned back in her chair, "I'm afraid that's all." 

Lara nodded and stood from her chair, Daniel doing the same. "We appreciate your help, Mrs. Maguire."

They made their way out of her office and onto the street, climbing into Lara's land rover. "Eduardo de los Santos," Daniel said, pulling out the diary from his jacket pocket, "That's whose diary this was. The captain. If the sword was as powerful as said to be, then why would the queen give it up? You'd think that people would be doing everything they can to get a hold of it, not get rid of it." 

Lara thought for a moment, her eyes remaining steady on the road, "Maybe she was afraid of its power. Perhaps she'd meant for the ship to crash, so that no one could ever touch it." Daniel looked out the window and nodded. "Yeah, maybe." 

***

Lara ran the tip of her fingers along the glossy surface of the piece. It was as if she could feel the history leaking from it. Outside, the sky was etched in a sullen gray, the rain clouds having remained stationary all day. Now the only sound that could be heard inside the den was the light drumming of the rain against the windows. 

She leaned back in her chair, her eyes sweeping across the contents of the piece. She smiled in satisfaction, standing from her desk, carrying the diary and the piece with her. Daniel looked up at her from his place on the floor, an ocean of books spread out in front of him. 

"Got it." She smiled, settling on the floor next to him. 

"You translated the inscription?" He asked, his eyes lighting up. 

She nodded, and flipped open the diary to where she had written the inscription first in Spanish, and then in English. Daniel glanced over Lara's shoulder, watching as she ran her finger along the inscription. 

"Seek out thy Sword of pure heart and ye shall prosper; Seek out of thy self and ye shall be judged." 

Lara paused a moment, glancing at Daniel, trying to discern what he was thinking. 

She took a breath and continued, "For be warned, the Judgment of Saints hath no mercy." 


	6. House Guests

**__**

House Guests

L.A. Sway

The rain was steady outside the manor, sounding like the footsteps of a child. Lara lay still in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep. The moon cast a soft glow against the furniture in her bedroom, and skirted across the floor. Lara turned on her side, and glanced at the clock. 2:45 am. She steadied her eyes on the falling rain on the balcony outside her bedroom. Each glistening droplet grasping onto the drainpipe before plummeting to the ground. 

She began to close her eyes when suddenly she saw movement outside her window; shadows. She didn't move from her bed, but instead, waited. Daniel had retired to his guest room several hours ago, and Winston had retreated to the opposite wing of the house. 

She reached for the blade beneath her pillow, only to find her hand grasping her silk sheets. It struck her suddenly, that she had allowed Winston to finally remove it from behind her pillow, after his constant prodding of how dangerous it was to sleep with a sharp object. She chided herself for giving into Winston's parental instincts, and pulled the silk sheets off of her. 

She saw it again, movement, a shadow. She moved away from her bed, squinting into the darkness of her bedroom. The house was silent; completely still. Only the soft swaying of the trees and the gentle droplets of rain could be heard. She moved out of her bedroom and into the main corridor leading to the stairway. 

She brushed her hand along the edge of the banister, when suddenly a small red dot appeared on her hand. Not a red dot; a red stream of light coming from her bed room; laser sight. She knew what that meant. 

Invasion. 

Just as Lara placed both hands on the banister, gun fire erupted. She immediately swung her body over the balcony, and dropped to the floor; rolling as soon as she hit the ground. 

Her body stung, but she took off running, avoiding the gunfire that sprayed at her heels. The key; they wanted the key. She heard the shattering of glass, as she rounded the corner, and slammed hard into another body. 

She looked up to see Daniel aiming a gun straight at her forehead. 

"Get Down!" He yelled, and Lara dropped her body to the floor. A single shot fired, and she turned to see a dark figure crumple to the ground. 

"C'mon!" Lara yelled to him, picking herself off of the ground. 

She needed her guns. 

She took off down the hall, Daniel right behind her. 

They cut through the expansive ball room, and Lara skidded to a stop beside the far left hand of the wall. She laid her hand along the wood panel, and pressed down. It swung open, revealing a gun cabinet. 

"Whoa. Who are you? Mrs. James Bond?" Daniel said sarcastically, watching over her shoulder. Lara tilted her head back to give Daniel one of those 'We're standing in front of a cabinet full of guns, don't make me mad' looks. She handed Daniel a Desert Eagle .44 Magnum. 

"You know how to use one of these things?" He nodded, accepting the gun and clicking the safety off. 

Just as she reached for her classic two pistols, she heard the main windows in the ball room shatter. She turned to see several black suited figures crash through the tall, arching windows, weapons in hand. They began firing as soon as they entered the room, and Lara and Daniel took cover as best they could. They fired several shots before running through the opposite doorway. "They've come for my bloody key!" 

"Where is it?" Daniel yelled back, before turning back and firing a few shots. 

"I'll take care of it. Just hold them off for me!" Lara took off through the doorway, and Daniel continued shooting in the opposite direction. 

"This is not good." He said to himself, and turned back around to follow Lara. He had only made it so far, when he felt something hard slammed into his face. He stumbled backwards, and then felt a forceful kick to his stomach. He fell on his back, his desert eagle skidding away from his hand. He immediately flipped himself back up, and slammed his fist into the face of his attacker. He went to hit again, but his opponent blocked his attack with his arm. Daniel brought his knee up in the middle of his enemy's legs, and then again punched him in the face. The dark figure fell backwards, gasping for breath. Daniel grabbed his gun, and ran through the doorway where he had last seen Lara. 

Lara wasn't far ahead of him, rushing through the maze of hallways.

She made it to the main entrance way, and rushed towards her artifact room, only to find the doorway completely gone. Lara paused in front of it, cursing under her breath. She went to take a step forward, when the cool metal of a blade was pressed against her neck. 

Before her attacker could even speak, Lara swung her pistol around slamming him hard in the jaw. She twisted her body around, bringing her knee into her enemy's ribs, and hearing a slight crack. He fell to the floor, his weapon skidding away from him. She immediately retrieved the blade, and pressed it up the dark figure's neck. 

After all, she was only returning the favor. 

She leaned over his place on the floor, the knife digging into his skin. He hissed through his teeth, but made no attempt to move. 

"Who are you?" Lara growled, crouched over the still body. 

The stranger strained to move his neck away. 

"They're all gone. All of them. They got what they came for." Daniel's familiar voice came from behind her. 

She was suddenly aware that the manor was completely silent, all gunfire having ceased. She peered around, and with how still the night had become, would have guessed that not a single person had been in the house. Lara turned back towards the figure lying on the floor. 

The moon's pale light now reflected on his face, and Lara could make out the features of a young man. His pale blue eyes glared up at her, and his teeth were gritted in pain. 

"I said," she repeated, her voice strained in frustration, "who are you? Who sent you here?" Finally the weak voice replied, "Go ahead. Kill me." 

Lara noticed that he had a French accent. 

He continued, "What he will do is much worse then anything you could think of." She watched him a moment, and then noticed a tattoo on his wrist. It was spider web with a diamond set in the middle. Before Lara could respond, or prevent it, the young man grabbed Lara's hand and pushed the blade through his neck, a pool of red instantly spilling onto the floor. Lara stepped back in shock, immediately looking away from the body. She couldn't help but feel guilty. He was just a kid. 

She closed her eyes, and sighed. Daniel sat down on the stairs, fidgeting with his desert eagle. 

"I cant believe this. What do we do now?" Lara looked up at him with a strained expression on her face. She didn't say anything, but instead removed the relic from the pocket of her pajamas. She held it up in her hand, and Daniel stared at her in surprise. "I had a copy made. Not the same of course, but in appearance, they're nearly identical. I hid it in the artifact room so they thought it was the real thing." Daniel shook his head and tried to smile a little. He was speechless.

***

"YOU IDIOTS!" The wine glass slammed against the opposite wall, the glass shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. 

Amir Bello paced back and forth, twirling a pistol around his index finger. When he seemed to finally calm, he gestured for the terrified young man standing in the doorway, to come closer. 

His name was Claude Bello, Amir's nephew. Taking a deep breath, Claude came closer to Amir, his body trembling. 

"A simple task. _No_? And yet, you managed to screw up." Amir spoke, the words sounding completely casual, as if they were discussing the weather.

"We…_I_ had no way of knowing, that she would make copies. We have under estimated her." Amir paused, "No, Claude. You have underestimated me." 

Amir aimed the pistol, and fired. Claude's expression of surprise remained frozen on his face as he collapsed onto the floor. 

Amir paused a moment, eyeing the corpse. 

"Cal!" He called, "Come take care of this mess." 

And returned to his desk to pour himself another glass of brandy. 

***

"This blade," Lara said, twisting it around in her fingers, "I know the man whole sold it to our friend." 

Daniel looked up from his breakfast, and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah…?" 

"In Paris, there's this man. He sells different kinds of weapons. He marks each of them with his own insignia. He's the only one that would have sold it." 

She paused and pointed to a small 'D' with a circle around it and three lines going through it. "Dominique Becker. An old friend of mine." 

Daniel leaned back in his seat, and seemed to watch something outside the kitchen windows. The sun was out, the rain clouds having cleared away. 

Birds chirped happily outside the house, and Lara became aware that Winston was in the room, sweeping up the mess left from the night before. 

He had surprisingly slept through the whole thing, and when he woke the next morning set to work cleaning up the manor. She supposed that he had become accustomed to such things, and often wondered why he bothered to keep such an occupation. After all, she wasn't exactly your typical archeologist. 

Pure loyalty, she decided. He had been with her since she was a child, and she couldn't imagine it any other way. 

After a moment, Daniel leaned forward in his seat and replied, "I hear Paris is beautiful this time of year."

*** 

The soft drone of the airplane nearly lulled Lara to sleep. It was completely silent, most of the passengers sound asleep. She glanced over it Daniel, his expression pensive. He was fidgeting with something in his fingers. 

She leaned over towards him, "You okay?" 

He looked up at her, and connected with her gaze. "Uh, yeah. Just thinking." 

Lara nodded, and leaned back in her seat. 

"This was my fathers," he said suddenly, holding up a small pocket watch, "He died when I was just a kid. Doesn't work so well anymore. But I've always kept it." He clicked the small silver latch on the side, to reveal a motionless clock inside. Next to it, a small picture of a little girl was pressed inside the small space. 

Lara recognized her as the same little girl in the picture at his flat. "My daughter," he paused, "She's almost 7 now." 

Lara turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. He sighed, avoiding her gaze, and closed the watch. 

Lara had had no idea that he had a daughter. She didn't know a single thing about him, she realized. And for some odd reason, it bothered her. But why should it? After all, he was just her partner in this. All she needed was his information, that was it. But then why did she suddenly want to continue the conversation? To learn more about him; his past? 

"We need to get some sleep." He said finally, leaning his seat backwards. 

Lara watched him for a moment, and then slowly nodded. She leaned her head against the window, listening to the soft buzz of the engine, and soon fell asleep. 

***

Lara pushed open the store door to 'D's Fine Weaponry' and made her way to the glass display table. A large man, with jet black hair stood with his back to her. 

"I was hoping to get a pistol. Actually a pair. Classic, you know." Lara said, smiling a little. Dominique Becker laughed as he turned around, "Lara Croft! It's been awhile." He had a tan complexion, and deep brown eyes. He was an American, born and raised in Boston. How he came to be in Paris, she had no idea. 

"It's good to see you Dom, how have you been." 

"Oh, alright. But I know you didn't just come out here for some pistols." 

Lara smiled, "Well I still have the pair you gave me. But I was hoping you could help me out. This is my friend Daniel Lane." She said gesturing towards Daniel who stepped forwards. 

Becker nodded, "What can I do?" 

"This knife." Lara said, pulling the blade from her jacket pocket.   
"Do you sell a lot of these?" 

Dominique reached forwards, pulling the knife from her hands. 

He studied it for a moment, "Where did you get this?" 

Lara eyed him before responding, "Lets just say, a friend of mine left it to me when he died." 

Becker paused and handed the blade back to her. 

"I've only sold a couple in the past few months. They're top of the line. Real Expensive." 

"He was a young man, blonde hair, blue eyes. I would say about 20 or so." 

He pursed his lips, "I don't know Lara. A lot of people come in here." 

Lara nodded, "Just one more question. This tattoo. Have you seen anyone with it?" Becker looked over the sketch Lara had drawn, and then looked up at her suspiciously. 

He turned back towards the shotgun he had been polishing. 

"Amir Bello. One of my most frequent customers. Seems like a real nice guy. He pays me a lot more then just the price of these guns. He pays me to keep my mouth shut." 

"You know I wouldn't ask you, unless it was important." 

He sighed and turned back to her, "He owns a few underground clubs in the red light district. You have to be either real rich or important to get in that place." 

He explained to Lara where exactly to go, and that Amir wouldn't be in town for a few days. Lara nodded and thanked him for his help. 

"It was good seeing you Dom." 

"You too Lara." He smiled, "Oh and Lara?" 

She turned back to look at him from the door way. "Be careful. I don't want to lose my favorite customer." 

Lara smiled, "I always am." 

With that, she and Daniel walked out into the busy streets of Paris. 


	7. Betrayal

****

Betrayal

L.A. Sway

__

For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad. 

__

2Corinthians 5:10

The room was plunged into darkness, the pitch black swallowing Lara. Screams rang out into the room, but Lara saw no one. She called out to them, but no reply came. "I can help you!" She continuously screamed, "I've come to help you!" But the screams continued, calls for help. Lara stumbled through the dark, searching. She felt a dizzying sensation, eyes watching her, judging her. She continued to walk, unsure of what direction she was headed. 

"Where are you going Lara?" She heard a voice call out. 

Lara twirled around, her eyes probing into what seemed complete emptiness. Then all at once, the screams halted and Lara found herself falling. It was as if time had slowed and she was now gliding through the air. Artifacts floated past her, most she recognized immediately. They were all artifacts she had discovered. She reached out for them, only for the objects to disappear at her grasp. It strangely reminded her of Alice In Wonder Land when Alice had fallen down the rabbit hole. Where did this rabbit hole lead?

Lara closed her eyes, trying to think. 

She opened her eyes to a brilliant whiteness. A clear, angelic whiteness that she could not comprehend, nor possibly describe. Was this heaven? She was on her knees, her body numb. She lifted her chin to look around. A brilliant white spirit floated in front of her, its head was bowed, whispers escaping its lips. 

"Lara Croft," She heard a voice say, a voice in her head. 

It was a whisper, a gentle voice calling out to her. The softness of the voice brought an incredible calm to Lara, an emotion she had never experienced so strong. The spirit reached out to her face, its eyes closed. 

"Judgment day is here," she heard a voice echo out into her mind. 

The spirit opened its eyelids to reveal the most brilliant green eyes she had ever seen. 

Green Eyes.

Lara's brown eyes snapped open, her mind struggling to make sense of where she was. Slowly she made out the surroundings of her hotel room, the dresser across from her bed, the sofa next to the French balcony doors. Lara took in a deep breath, closing her eyes, trying to savor her dream before it faded away like dreams usually do. 

The sky outside had become a soft lavender, the stars still visible even as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. A soft chill crawled into the room, and Lara pulled her covers farther over her. She groaned in frustration, realizing the balcony doors were open, and then she froze. She had shut and locked the doors the night before. Lara immediately reached for her pistol she had left taped to the side of the coffee table.

Her hand grasped air. 

Lara swore under her breath, and squinted her eyes, trying to make out something in the dark room. The pale beige draperies blew back and worth, as if performing some kind of exotic dance and the dresser across from her bed seemed to resemble something human. She began to pull the silk sheets off of her when a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth. A strong fume filled her nostrils and she reflexively swung her arm out to her right, her fist making contact with something or _someone. _

She sprang out of bed, stumbling forward. She slammed into her dresser, pain shooting into her hip. She struggled forward, the room suddenly becoming hazy. Lara reached out in front of her, trying to steady herself, but her head swam. _Drugs! _She struggled to think, feeling her body go numb. _Don't give up Lara! _She fell towards the door, trying to grasp the handle, when something hard was slammed into the back of her skull. A searing pain shot through her and she fell to the floor, the carpet burning beneath her face. And then, Lara slipped slowly back into her dreams. 

****

The sky had faded to darkness by the time Dominique Becker left work. The France air had turned to a bitter cold in the early night, and Dom pulled his leather jacket on. He had never really enjoyed the cold, but having grown up in Boston he had gotten used to it. He glanced up at the sky, the stars scattered along the long stretch of complete black. He sighed to himself, his mind wandering. 

"You're the best out there Dom, you supply your customers with whatever they need, and you can keep your mouth shut." Customers had told him time and time again.

__

How many times had he heard that? 

"You supply your customers with whatever they need, and you can keep your mouth shut," he repeated out loud to himself. _You can keep your mouth shut. _

That is, until Lara Croft came into town. 

He crossed the street, heading towards his apartment building, barely a block from his store. The events of the long day called for a few deserved beers when he made it back home. He rounded the corner, only to be halted by the familiar click of a pistol being cocked. Dominique froze, and held his breath. 

A stranger cloaked by the shadows of the nearby alleyway stood holding a Desert Eagle MK19 44 Magnum (After working in weaponry for 11 years, Dom knew his guns) in Dom's direction. Dominique's breathes came out in small white puffs of air as he studied the stranger across from him. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the stranger stepped out from the shadows, only to reveal he really wasn't a stranger at all. Dominique stared back at the angry eyes of Daniel Lane. 

Dominique knew why he was here. Daniel moved closer to him, the grip on his gun still tight. 

"Where the hell is she?" he hissed. 

Dominique sighed, a cloud of white mist appearing in front of him. "This is over your head, you don't want this." 

Daniel suddenly rushed towards Dominique shoving his 6'2 frame against the alley way wall. 

"You heard me Dominique, I know that you betrayed Lara. Don't make it a habit. Where the hell is she?" 

Dom glared back at Daniel, "I've known Lara a long time, but business is business. You don't wanna mess with this guy, he'll get what he wants, no matter what." 

"Not if I can help it." Daniel growled back, his deep green eyes producing an intimidating glare. 

Dominique gritted his teeth, "A warehouse off of 7. A club, _Le Tunnel_." 

Daniel shoved Dominique back into the wall, and then without another word, disappeared into the flow of traffic on the main road. Dominique watched him go, cursing to himself. After a few minutes he pulled out a cell phone and punched in a few numbers. "It's Done. He just left." 


	8. Dealing With The Devil

Lara awoke to a dimly lit room, the pale flickering of candles casting small obscure shadows across the carpeting. She heard the familiar instrumentals of the London symphony being played from a nearby record player, each haunting note whispering to her ears as though she had never heard music before. Her head throbbed, and she struggled to piece together the events that had led her to the unconscious. Her vision was groggy and the contents of the unfamiliar room were indistinct. The strong effects of whatever drugs they had given her had left her body feeling numb, and her hands trembling. She opened and closed her eyes slowly; expensive artwork and furniture lined the deep red walls of the room. Balcony doors had been opened across from where she lay; the chilly France air invading the room like an unwanted guest. She attempted to sit up, but her thoughts and body would not cooperate and she fell back against the sofa.  
  
"Do not strain yourself Miss Croft." A male voice, scented with a French accent said suddenly from behind her. "You'll need your strength." Lara squeezed her eyes shut, "Whurr am I?" Her words came out slurred, and she repeated herself, hoping for her words to arrive with more fluency. "Why, you are in Paris Miss Croft." The voice responded matter of factly.  
  
She heard him move away from his position behind her and move towards the large oak desk across the room. He picked up a glass of liquor off the edge of the desk and turned back towards her. In the pale lighting Lara could only make out faint characteristics. He had solid features, tanned skin, dark hair, and deep brown eyes. He starred past her for a moment and took a sip from his glass. She eyed him; but the room began to swim, and she closed her eyes. The drugs had yet to wear off. "I'm sorry to have brought you in with such force," he said, "but I was afraid you wouldn't agree to meeting with me otherwise." "Who are you!?" She demanded suddenly, proud for her words to come out slightly less slurred then before. He pursed his lips as though it were a question that required much thinking. "Amir Bello. But my name is of no worth to you Miss Croft. You see, I am going to need your help." He reached for a velvet box that lay upon his desk and opened it for her to see. The two halves of the key of saints had been gently laid inside, each half glowing a bright gold. The symbols on each piece appeared brilliantly for a moment in black, and then faded back into the gold. Lara's eyes were drawn to them, the pieces flooding the entire room with light. He suddenly shut the box, and the light was extinguished. Wind from the opened doors blew in and then candles flickered for a moment. Lara shivered as he came close to her. He knelt next to her and smiled. "They're beautiful, no? Your friend, Lawrence, he made an incredible find. It's a pity he is not alive to see what the pieces will lead us to." Lara's face boiled with anger. "Do not look so angry Miss Croft. I am sharing something wonderful with you." He paused and set the case back on his desk. He stared at it thoughtfully for a moment and then returned his gaze to her. "I am having a small setback though. The two halves will not combine, and I have a feeling you will know just what to do." Lara's head throbbed and his words sounded far away. He stoked a stray hair away from her face. Lara pulled back from him in disgust, and then suddenly spat in his face. "Go to hell." She growled. A look of surprise passed over his features, and then he resumed his casual exterior. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her saliva away from his face. "If that's how you prefer to conduct business Miss Croft, I will oblige. Cal!" He flicked his hand in the air and a large man stepped forwards. He held a black box with three thin silver needles inside. At the point of each needle there was a different color. Amir looked at her and removed the first needle from the box. "These were shipped from China. They use venom from dangerous insects mixed with dosages of drugs like we used on you today. Shall we test them out?"  
  
***** Daniels breaths came out in small white clouds in front of him. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, and ran his finger along the desert eagle within his jacket. The warehouse loomed before him, the dirty window panes concealing a throng of club goers. And Lara. He paced back and forth a moment; taking in the sounds and scents of the city. It was nearly midnight, and the full moon reflected with a white glare against the ground.  
  
The sound of honking and traffic was distant; the only sound in the still night was the skittering of trash along the road and the lapping of the waves along the river Seine. The wind blew a little harder and Daniel shuddered. There was something strangely eerie about the city; the pale moonlight, the absolute stillness. He glanced around and after a moment began to move towards to entrance into the building. He was only a few steps from the door way when he felt his body rammed from the side. He reflexively pushed away from his attacker and went for his gun, but by the time he had removed the desert eagle from his jacket, he was face to face with Dominique Becker. "What the hell are you doing here?!" He said, his breaths heavy, and his gun still aimed at Becker's chest. Dominique looked from the side for a moment, and then sighed. "They know you're coming." Daniel glared at him, "What did you do?!" His voice was strained with frustration. Dominique shook his head, "I didn't have a choice! It was part of the deal.  
  
They would have killed me if I hadn't followed through. My only concern now is helping Lara." Daniel let out a short laugh, and backed away from him, gun still aimed at Dominique. "How could I possibly trust you? You've set us up all along!" Dominique stared back at him, "Lara is one of my oldest friends. I don't expect you to trust me. And I don't care if you do. I've come to help her." Daniel stared at him for a long moment, and shook his head. Dominique smirked, "I'm sorry I have to do this." He then revealed a gun of his own.  
  
****  
  
Lara gasped in pain as he removed the needle. She gritted her teeth as she felt the drugs travel into her bloodstream. Her body felt on fire, and yet completely numb at the same time. She felt the room sway, and the all the sounds fade in and out. The cold she had felt earlier from the opened doors faded, and now she merely felt the throbbing of her veins. She stared at her wrist as if waiting for the vain to just explode from whatever had been given to her. She took slow shallow breaths, each one becoming more difficult then the one before. "Strong isn't it Miss Croft? Do not worry. It's merely slowing down your heart, but not stopping it. Not yet, at least." He laughed a little, and Lara cringed. "Now perhaps you can share with us what we're doing wrong, before another of these little needles is needed." His words sounded far away, and she stared at him in confusion. Her world had become a terrifying one of darkness, her body trembled uncontrollably, and her breathing came out in shallow gasps. "Mr. Bello?" Cal said from the doorway. "Becker's here. He's got Daniel Lane with him."  
  
Suddenly the office door was pushed open and Daniel was shoved inwards. His face was bloodied and bruised, and Dominique Becker followed closely behind him a gun pressed against the back of Daniel's head. Amir stood, "It's good to see you Mr. Becker. And likewise Mr. Lane."  
  
Daniel looked up at him from the ground, "Pleasures all mine." He looked at Lara. She stared at him, her eyes opening and closing slowly. "What did you do to her!?" He yelled, struggling to pick himself off of the ground, but Dominique kicked him in the ribs and he fell back towards the ground. Lara winced and fixed a cold glare on Dominique. She had been aware that he had conspired against her. She was no longer surprised by betrayal; it was unfortunately something she had grown accustomed to. Amir knelt next to Daniel on the floor, and squinted his eyes. He returned his gaze to Lara. "Now, Lara. Tell me what I need to know or your friend here will become much more intimate with a bullet then he had imagined." Lara looked at Daniel in horror, and then back at Amir. "Times a' wastin Lara. Tick Tock. Tick Tock." 


End file.
